


percabeth one-shots

by bodytoflame



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodytoflame/pseuds/bodytoflame
Summary: various percabeth-centric tumblr prompts too short for their own post
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Malcolm Pace, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 179





	1. index

index//

2\. percabeth caught making out at Sally’s (and awkwardness ensues)  
3\. injured!annabeth, worried!percy  
4\. insecure!annabeth  
5\. jealous!percy  
6\. early relationship, annabeth talking to malcolm  
7\. injured!percy  
8\. annabeth wearing percy’s clothes  
9\. sparring but with Subtext  
10\. “it was just like the dance from westover hall; it's a little sad, but a little hopeful, too”  
11\. watching the sunrise after Annabeth takes the knife in tlo  
12\. post botl angst  
13\. college au  
14\. “Take off your shirt.”  
15\. percy and annabeth dance, and talk. (ttc)  
16\. a graduation party  
17\. "i'm not going anywhere"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Percabeth caught making out at Sally’s and awkwardness ensues"

“What are you thinking about over there?” Annabeth asks, smiling as she sees the spaced-out look on Percy's face.

“Huh?” he asks, not even glancing in her direction.

She shakes her head, laughing, sitting down next to him on the couch with a nudge on the shoulder. “You were completely zoned out there. What's up?”

“Nothing, just… thinking,” his hand finds hers, “The war's over. Like, actually over. It just feels weird to be back in school, like the past four years didn't happen.”

“I know what you mean. Everything's back to normal — whatever that is — but it never really changed here.”

“At least there were some good things.” Percy shrugs, wrapping an arm around her.

She raises her eyebrows, making eye contact. “Yeah? Care to elaborate?”

Percy leans in closer, trying not to fall into the playful look on her face; trying not to crack a smile. “You're so needy.”

She cracks first — _and okay, maybe she is a little needy, but it's not like he doesn't love giving her attention_ — rolling her eyes and kissing him (because, honestly, what else could she do?) with a sweetness that even _she's_ surprised by.

Kissing her, even after a few months, is still just as exhilarating as it was the first time. _Especially_ when she keeps doing ridiculous things like biting his lip, and running her hands up his shirt. This time, she doesn't do that. This time he can feel her smile against his lips, her fingers threading through his hair, and he may as well be dreaming.

They jolt apart the second they hear the lock click open, but Annabeth can't hide the red pooling in her cheeks, nor can Percy smooth out his ruffled hair.

“Hi! Mrs— um, Sally—”

“—Mom!”

“We're just—”

“—Studying.”

“Yeah, Percy needed help studying for…”

“Chemistry!”

“No!” Annabeth glares at him, as if to say, _that is the worst answer you could've chosen, Seaweed Brain_. She gives up, throwing her head into her hands.

“Always nice to see you, Annabeth.” Sally raises her eyebrows, setting down her bags of groceries on the counter. She won't torture them any more — the mortified look on Percy's face alone tells her he knows she'll never let him live it down anyways.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Injured Annabeth worried Percy?"

“She’s asking for you.”

“How’s she doing?” Percy catches his breath, trying not to let on just how fast he ran here.

“Not great. She took a nasty hit. She’ll be fine, but it’s gotta hurt.”

He pushes the curtain out of the way, relieved to see her awake and alert. “Hey,” his face softens, settling at her side.

“Thank the _gods_ you’re okay,” she breathes a sigh of relief, grabbing his hand with a light squeeze.

“Annabeth, you— that cut was deep.” His heart still pounds in his chest. She doesn’t respond, whether she’s just too tired to speak, or feeling guilty, he doesn’t know. “You can’t just keep putting yourself in danger for me. You’re important too.”

“You’re not invincible anymore. Someone’s gotta watch your back.” She smirks. “And front. And every other part of you.”

“Annabeth. Look at me. I can’t lose you.”

Annabeth meets his gaze, briefly. “I’m not going anywhere, Percy.” For as strong as she is, she can’t keep looking into his eyes when she knows she’s not; “I’m okay.”

He can see how shallow the breaths she takes are, trying not to agitate the bruised rib. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“Still breathing.” If only barely. And sure, it hurts, but she _is_ still alive, and so is he.

“I was worried you wouldn’t be when I got back to camp.”

“But I am,” she states.

He runs his fingers through Annabeth’s hair, still half tied up and flecked with dirt. “Just... promise me you’ll look out for yourself too.”

She takes his hand, gently placing it above her heart, without a word. Percy knows what she means by it, even if the words aren’t there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insecure Annabeth and reassuring Percy soft Annabeth is my weakness

“You look… beautiful.”

Annabeth looks down at the floor, not daring to meet his gaze when she knows exactly the eyes he’s looking at her with. The eyes that look at her like she’s the sun.

“You do. You are.” Percy steps closer, taking her hand. “What’s wrong?”

She runs a finger down her arm, tracing the lines both visible and invisible. “People stare sometimes. No one ever says anything, but…” While she's never been too preoccupied with mortal body image norms, she knows none of the other kids in school have this many scars. And it's weird to call attention to them like this, even if it's something she wouldn't think twice about at camp.

“I’ve got plenty of scars too.” Percy responds.

“ _You’re_ wearing a suit,” she answers, pointedly, tugging at his lapel.

“Yeah, I also swim,” he says, chuckling, “You know, most guys do that without a shirt.”

“Do people stare?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “Other teams mostly. My teammates never really asked, but I’m pretty sure they used to think I was some tough guy.”

She laughs, “Were they scared of you?”

“A little, at first. Now I think they’re more scared of the hot, tall blonde who barged into the locker room last week demanding I give her back her sweatshirt.”

Annabeth pouts, crossing her arms and stifling a laugh.

“You look incredible, okay?” Her gaze softens, eyebrows knitting together as he speaks. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” Percy wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her in. “And those scars are important.”

And it's not like she doesn't know that — doesn't recognize that fact every time she looks in the mirror — that every mark on her skin is another reason she's still standing. She rests her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, quiet.

“Now if we don’t leave enough time for my mom to take pictures…”

“I know,” she whines, laughing, but pulling him closer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Percabeth slightly jealous Percy"

“Gods, Percy, if looks could kill...” Annabeth laughs, raising her eyebrows.

Percy wraps his arm around her waist, holding her closer on the park bench, eyes darting to meet hers. “He was checking you out!”

“You were looking at the poor guy like he tried to kill you! And trust me, I’ve seen that look before.” She holds back a laugh.

He blushes, shrugging, “I... I don’t know, I don’t like it when people look at you like that...”

She smiles, leaning into his personal space with a hand on the top of his thigh. “Not including yourself, I presume?”

Percy rolls his eyes.

“What?” Annabeth asks.

“You’re trying to distract me”

She locks eyes with him, unable to stop the smile and blush from rising to her face. “And tell me, is it working?”

Percy smiles into a kiss, trying not to laugh at just how much of a sap he is around her. “Yes,” he admits.

Annabeth shakes her head. “I’ve only got eyes for you, Seaweed Brain.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I love reading about annabeth getting flustered over Percy or about awkward, still new to dating percabeth between tlo and tlh"

Malcolm speaks the second he sees her walk into the cabin. “So you and Jackson, huh?”

“What? No, I—”

“At the lake today?” He’s seemingly unfazed by her attempts to deflect, continuing like she didn’t say a word. “Was wondering when you’d finally do something about it.”

“I mean, yeah, I...” She lingers in the doorway, too caught off guard.

He shakes his head, “I’m just messing with you.”

Annabeth pouts, crossing her arms tightly above her chest after she closes the door behind her. “ _Don’t_.”

Malcolm rolls his eyes. “He came by a few minutes ago looking for you.”

She raises her eyebrows, her gaze softening and her shoulders relaxing. “ _He did_?”

“Yeah.” He lets out a chuckle, quickly covering it up with a cough. (She shoots him a knowing glance anyways.)

“Okay,” she responds, walking towards her dresser and setting her bag down.

Malcolm glances over at the door, and back to her, letting the silence hang over them. “So... are you gonna...?”

“Yeah,” she answers, too quickly. “Can you—” she points to her bed, behind him, “—my sweatshirt?”

He tosses it to her wordlessly, noticing how it hangs just past her shorts once she tugs it on, completely overwhelming her in size.

And he still doesn’t say a word, but she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “It’s not— I was cold and Percy—”

“ _Adorable_.” As the words leave his mouth with a laugh, he knows he’s in for it.

Annabeth crosses her arms, unaware of just how funny it looks to Malcolm, her hands completely hidden by the arms of Percy’s sweatshirt. Her face flushes red, a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “Shut up.”

He raises his hands in faux-defeat. “Alright, alright. I yield. Touchy subject, geez.”

Heavy on her feet, and in a huff, she leaves the cabin, letting the door snap shut behind her to make a point. Even when it does, she and Malcolm both know it’s a facade, and that she means him no ill will. And it’s hard to be too mad when he shouts out after her, unable to contain his laughter, “ _Make smart choices!_ ”

She yells back, “Jerk!” and takes off running in a fit of laughter towards the Poseidon cabin, unable to keep the smile from reaching her face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30\. “Is that blood?” + 42. “Why are you shaking?”
> 
> combined with another ask:
> 
> "Can I mayhaps get some sad/hurt/insecure (I’m not picky lmao) Percy with annabeth who comforts him? I know you did something kinda similar but akdnakbdkand I just love my son and he deserves so many hugs"

“ _Is that blood?_ ”

“What?” He’s not sure how long she’s been standing there, lost in the void of his own thoughts.

“Percy, look at me.”

His eyes finally move from the spot on the ground he’s been staring at.

“Your arm. What happened?” She asks, glancing over the cut on his forearm, looking towards him for an answer.

Percy's explanation is blunt. “Monster. But it’s gone.”

Annabeth sits down next to him. It’s shallow, and the bleeding has stopped. “It’s just a scratch,” she determines, figuring it’ll heal just fine in a day or so, what with the healing process aided by their godly heritage. But the lines of blood running down his arm from the cut are dry, she notices, frowning. She asks, “How long have you been sitting here?”

“A while? I... I got too confident.”

“Why didn’t you—?” She stops, sighs, and reaches for the first aid kit under the coffee table. Blood still makes both of them uneasy. Still, she goes through the motions, unfazed; her hands know exactly what to do without a second thought. Percy doesn’t even wince as she cleans it off with alcohol, before wrapping the laceration with gauze. She doesn’t even bother moving the box out of the way, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. It’s a while before she speaks, before she processes it. When she does, it’s whisper soft. “Please be careful.”

“Annabeth, you’re... why are you shaking?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffles, wiping a tear from her face with the cuffs of her sweatshirt. “It could’ve easily been so much worse.”

Percy answers her simply, “I know.”

After a moment, Annabeth straightens her back with a deep breath, smoothing the wrinkles in her clothes back into place; slowly piecing herself back together. She snaps the case shut, placing it back under the table, leans back into his side, and intertwines his fingers in hers.

He squeezes her hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No... you’re okay. I know what that feels like,” she reminds him. _That fear._ It's not something she wants to talk about, but it's the truth, and it's something they share. She knows what it's like to feel paralyzed. “You're okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "annabeth wearing percy's clothes?"

“Are those mine?”

Annabeth crosses her arms across her body. Her curls, still damp and glistening, sit at the apex of her head, loosely twisted and tied with a hair tie in a lump. Small drops of water fall down onto her shoulders and arms, and the neckline of her tank top. “No,” she lies, clinging to the doorway of the bathroom.

Percy raises his eyebrows, face breaking out into a goofy grin, because he knows he can tease her. “You're telling me _you_ own boxers with little blue fish on 'em?”

“You can't prove I don't,” she shrugs, smirking, as she climbs into his lap on the couch, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “And honestly, that's more embarrassing on your part.”

He darts back, “You think _that's_ embarrassing, that's just the start.”

“Oh, I know. I've seen the dinosaurs. And the unicorns.” Annabeth moves closer, brushing her nose against his.

He tilts his head, inching the tiniest bit closer, refusing to close the gap between them (and betting on the fact that she won't). “And somehow, you still like me.”

Annabeth's eyes dart back between his lips and his eyes. She kisses him, slow and light, loving the way he breathes out a sigh against her lips. “You stole my hoodie, what was I supposed to do?”

“I don't know… steal it back?” He laughs a little, hands on her hips. “You look cute.”

A drop of water falls from her hair, landing on his cheek, and she joins him in a fit of laughter, hiding the blush quickly rising to her face from his compliment. “Okay,” she sighs, “I need to go dry my hair.”

“Okay,” Percy nods. “I'll be here.”

She kisses his cheek. “I love you, dork.”

“Don't call me a dork, _you're_ a dork.”

Annabeth laughs as she walks away. “You're staring, aren't you?” (He is; she doesn't have to see it to know.)

He fiddles with the strings of his plaid pajama pants, laying back on the couch. “Is there a problem?” His tone is so teasing, she can't resist a response.

She turns back, her suspicions verified. “You are _insufferable_.” He _is_ , in the most enthralling way.

Percy chuckles, and the sound sends a spark through her body. She feels a weight lifted off her shoulders, and laughs, because, well, he's the son of _Poseidon_ , after all. Water's kind of his _thing_.

“Almost forgot about that trick,” he smirks, watching her take her hair down out of the lopsided bun, cascading around her face.

“Slipped my mind too,” she admits, leisurely making her way back to the couch and dropping herself on top of Percy; head on his chest, entangling her legs with him.

He wraps his arms around her back, and takes in the moment.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 33\. “I’d like to see you try.”

“How long are you planning on keeping this up?” Annabeth asks, advancing closer to him. She takes a swing, the sound of metal against metal permeating her ears with a clang.

His muscle memory reacts instantaneously to her blows, perfectly blocking each one with his shield. “As long as it takes.”

And then, her foot hooks around his leg, knocking him off balance. She follows him down onto the ground, pinning her weight across his legs, sword poised at his neck, hair falling into his face. His chin arches up, away from the blade, and he grimaces. The fall knocked Riptide from his grasp, and she has his arm locked under her shield, the sword _just_ out of his reach. The dust starts to settle around them, the only sound their heavy breathing.

“You were saying?”

“It’s not over yet,” he smirks, “I can think of at least two ways to win this.” (Well, he really only has one, but that sounds less impressive.)

She laughs, dipping her face closer to his, “I’d like to see you try.”

Percy considers dropping it right there, genuinely wonders if it might be more worth it to let her have this win, if he can reach up and kiss her. But no, his left arm’s still free, and he has the element of surprise on his side.

He puts all of his strength into using his shield as leverage to push her over, against her wielding arm. The stiff metal holds her arm locked in its position as he flips her, unable to advance the blade any further. It sits evenly perched between them, a stalemate of steel, as their strength is evenly matched. It all happens so quick: now, her grip on his other arm is gone, and she’s defenseless to his quick retrieval of her sword. But doesn’t use it against her — he tosses it far away, out of both their reach.

“That wasn’t a very smart move,” she says. “You could’ve had me.”

Percy weighs his options. Annabeth could easily take advantage while he’s distracted — _he doesn’t think she will_. He lowers his voice, smirking, and letting up on her. “I hope it’s not too bold to say I think I still can.”

“No,” she breathes, pulling him down by his shirt collar into a kiss. “Not at all.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “it was just like the dance from westover hall; it's a little sad, but a little hopeful, too”

“Come dance with me.” Annabeth reaches her hand out, stretching her fingers towards him from across he room.

There’s a nameless melody flowing out of the radio, one Percy can’t pin down exactly. But he knows Annabeth likes it; and it’s soft, and slow, but still:

“What?”

“Don’t make me ask twice, Seaweed Brain, just get over here.” Her laughter lights up the room, resounding off the walls. It’s the first time he’s seen her smile since — since a _long_ time. _Since before._

So he does — he steps closer, and his hands find her waist. He’s not sure why it feels awkward; his hands know her waist like the back of his own hand. Then, she pulls him closer, tighter; her arms wrapped around his back in a hug, until there’s no space between them. And she sways, back and forth. Slow, not to the pace of the song: their own rhythm. And it’s like coming home. She looks so beautiful up this close, when he can see the subtle freckles dotting her face, her weary eyes, the deep set circles underneath showing just how tired and scarred she is — and still, just as beautiful as she’s ever been, if not more, for all the fight she’s put up to be here.

For the first time in a while, Percy feels a tiny sliver of catharsis, like they might finally be okay. And it hits him — just how much they’ve weathered to get here — _it’s just like the dance at Westover Hall; a little sad, but a little hopeful, too._ It’s all he can ask for, at least for now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 90\. “Remember when we were little?”

He asks her as they watch the sun rise over the city skyline. “Do you remember when we were little? When this all felt so far away and... _scary_.”

Annabeth whispers her response, “It still scares the shit out of me.”

“When you’ve spent the last 4 years thinking about death, it’s... it changes your perspective,” he admits, quiet.

Silence hangs over them for a minute before she speaks. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I’m not good at this, you know...” Percy shrugs, looking back at her. Her hair shines golden against the orange sky.

“What?” She meets his gaze, trying to sit up a bit more without agitating her arm.

“The whole best-friend-saving-my-life thing,” he explains, point blank.

She shakes her head. The unspoken omen of what’s to come hangs between them. “No, me neither.”

“It’s gonna be okay.” Even if he doesn’t believe it, it’s what she _needs_ to hear.

And Annabeth knows that — knows it isn’t the truth. But it brings a smile to her face; the thought of both of them making it through this unscathed. It’ll be something for her dreams, she supposes. So she doesn’t say anything — but she doesn’t shy away either when his hand finds hers in the morning sunlight.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 52\. “Are you going to talk to me?”

“ _Are you going to talk to me?_ ” Percy asks her once they’re alone, his figure illuminated by the light of the campfire.

Annabeth clutches her fists tighter. She wants to. In fact, she wants to kiss that stupid goofy grin right off his face. But that wouldn’t be wise, would it?

“Come on, Annabeth. I don’t know what I did wrong.” He sighs, throwing his arms up in defeat.

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing wrong and that’s the problem! You came back from the dead, which is more than anyone could’ve asked for, but you did it anyways, because that’s what you do, Percy, and I… I don’t know. You come back, and it’s like nothing’s changed when _so much has_.”

“What do you mean?”

_The fact that I kissed you and you’ve done nothing to acknowledge it._ “No. Nothing. It’s not… it’s nothing,” she sighs, deflecting.

Percy knows not to push it. “…I’m sorry?”

He tries, he really does. It just makes her feel more guilty. “No…” she shakes her head with a chuckle, “That’s the thing. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Then I don’t understand why you’re mad at me!” He raises his voice, and it sounds so foreign to her.

“I’m not mad at you!” she yells back, and takes a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m not mad, I’m…” _Confused, because she thought he felt the same way…_ “I’m just scared.” And she is. It’s not a lie. He’s already survived the impossible, and this isn’t over yet. It’s just going to get tougher, and more dangerous, and the idea of losing him, _again_ , is too much. So she pushes her feelings deep down, despite knowing it’s not the right decision.

He sits down next to her, feeling the warmth of the fire on his face. “So am I.” He’s not so much scared for himself, as he is for everyone else in his life; Annabeth knows that. He’s scared for his mom. He’s scared for her, because he knows how hurt she’s been.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’ll stay.”

They both know it’s not what she meant, but for what it’s worth, he does.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "35, mayhaps for a percabeth college au"  
> 35\. “I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful.”

Percy Jackson is just about the worst lab partner she could imagine. He’s cocky, and irredeemably irritating, _but by god if he isn’t cute_.

Annabeth doesn’t even want to be here. It’s not her fault that most people don’t know what they want to do in college. She does — and it’s architecture, not chemistry — which means she’s wasting her time here when she could be learning something that will actually help her get a job.

And _this kid_. He smiles, and winks at her, and clearly thinks he’s top shit; even worse, it’s only the first day. Not to mention the fact that she had to do all the work, because he seemed to be absolutely clueless about lab safety — so it’s a relief when the two hours are up and she can finally stop having to look at his _stupid, pretty face_.

And then, he holds the door for her, shooting a crooked smile in her direction. “I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful.”

“And why should I care what _you_ think?” She darts back, eyes narrowing, but trying to hide the shiver it shoots up her spine.

The tough facade fades from his face. “I…” he blushes, “it’s just a compliment.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. _Maybe not so bulletproof after all._ “Well… thanks.”

He keeps walking in her direction, out of the building, keeping up with the rather quick pace she sets. “I think… you’re in my history lecture too? 10am?”

“Where are you going with this, exactly, _Jackson_?”

“I don’t know, I guess,” he sighs, “I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee with me sometime?”

Annabeth rips a piece of paper off the corner of the notebook she’s carrying. She’s not sure what exactly compels her to, whether it’s genuine curiosity into his thoughts, or just because he’s hot. Grabbing the pen from behind her ear, and ripping the cap off with her teeth, she scribbles as fast as she can, and crumples the paper into his hand. She shakes her head, clutching her books tighter to her chest. “ _Don’t text me until you learn how to use a Bunsen burner_.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 49\. “Take off your shirt.”

“Seems like _someone_ missed me.”

“Take off your shirt,” Annabeth breathes, her hands pressed against his waist.

“Pushy, much?” Percy runs his fingers up her spine, sighing into a kiss; being away from her for even a second more seems like a lifetime too long.

She shoots back, parting from him only slightly — “At least I’m not a narcissist.”

Percy kisses her again, feverish and quick, and it's incredibly hard to slow down. He takes a deep breath. “You’re brutal, huh?” he laughs, running his fingers up her arm, to her face. “Yeah, _ouch_ , that one hurts, Chase.” He tilts her chin up, biting his lip as he looks directly into her eyes.

Annabeth's gaze follows, her eyes darting back up to meet his. “I swear, I’ll cut it off you,” she threatens, her voice almost starting to sound desperate. “Don't test me.”

“That’s property damage.” He gulps, though he'd love to watch her try.

“And what would you call it when you ripped the buttons off my shirt?”

Percy answers immediately, almost unflinching, with a playful smile. “An unfortunate accident involving poor craftsmanship.”

She glares at him.

He shrugs, tossing the shirt to the side, figuring it’s more trouble than it’s worth.

“Better.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this post: https://eusebus.tumblr.com/post/618281629135273984/okay-so-like-remember-when-percy-first-met

Percy’s hands sit loosely on her waist, swaying aimlessly to some unrecognizable tune. “I met Aphrodite.”

“That must’ve been interesting,” she hums, relaxing her stiff grip on his shoulders, hands settling behind his neck.

“It was _weird_. Like, are you _sure_ Athena is your mom? ‘Cause you sure look a lot like Aphrodite.”

Annabeth’s face heats up bright red, and her fingers tense around the fabric of his shirt.

“What? What did I do?” He laughs, feeling a blush rising to his cheeks, solely from her reaction.

She responds after a second of silence, pursing her lips as she thinks. “Everyone sees Aphrodite differently.”

“I knew _that_ ,” he says, a defensive edge to his voice, but still not understanding her point.

“She’s the goddess of beauty…”

Percy gives her a blank stare.

She elaborates further. “…and everyone has a different interpretation of what beauty is.”

“So?” he questions.

Annabeth shakes her head, and laughs, “ _So_ , it means you think I’m beautiful, Seaweed Brain.”

“Oh!” Percy’s face flushes even hotter, and he’s sure she can see it. “I mean— uh,” he lets out a nervous chuckle, suddenly feeling like they’re far too close, despite the deliberate distance left between them. “I— I guess… I do?”

“Well, thanks,” she smiles, adding, “I guess.”

They settle back into a rhythm that’s no one’s but their own, not in time with anyone else, or the music; it’s steady, and soft, and theirs.

Annabeth’s hand leaves his back, reaching into his hair, fingers threading through the streak again before finding the matching piece on her head. Percy pushes it back behind her ear, and smiles; out of sight, out of mind.

He steps a little closer to her, trying to ignore the nervous energy jittering through his body. They stay like that for a while, before Annabeth speaks again.

“At least you’re not stepping on my feet this time.”

He shrugs. “I figured I owed you a _real_ dance.”

It’s a welcome distraction, for both of them. “Thanks.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i finish highschool tomorrow and was wondering if you could write something for percabeth graduating?"

As the crowd dies down, Annabeth seeks him out in the living room of Sally's apartment, plopping down next to him on the couch with a sigh and taking his hand. “I know you never thought we’d get here, but it feels good, doesn’t it?” It’s more than just graduating. It’s being 18; here, _together_. Which is more than either of them dreamed was possible.

Percy lets out a sigh. “Really good.” _To be alive, even._

Annabeth is grateful. For every second. “You’re just happy not to have to take a class with your stepdad ever again, aren’t you?” She laughs, knowing that for as good of a teacher Paul was, he’d never stop teasing either of them. Which was oddly comforting. Normal.

He chuckles, and squeezes her hand. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

She could brush it off; call him cheesy and move on. But today — especially — he’s the only person who’s ever made her feel quite like this. “Your tie is crooked,” she says, laughing. It's not what she intended on saying as a response, but _it is_ , and he looks so uncomfortable with that dress shirt buttoned all the way up.

“Good,” he scoffs, struggling to undo the knot. “I'm gonna tear it to shreds.”

Shaking her head, she tugs it loose and pulls it over his head, undoing the top button that constricts his neck.

“You're lucky you don't have to wear those things.” He leans his head back against the couch cushion, relieved to be freed.

While she _is_ pretty comfortable in her simple black dress, let it never be said she doesn't appreciate the merit of a man in a suit, or really, any uniform. “For what it's worth, you look good.”

“ _You_ look good,” he says, clarifying, “You look _beautiful_.” _And you always do._ “ _I_ look like a kid borrowing his dad's suit.”

She blushes, then bursts into laughter. “Could you even imagine what you'd look like in your _actual_ dad's suit?”

“I'd look like… I don't even know,” he laughs.

Percy wraps his arm around her, and holds her close, and it hits her just how much of a toll the afternoon has taken on her. Telling the story of how they met, sans-gods, to Percy's family and mortal acquaintances, was taxing, considering how long it took them to get the story straight. She sighs, tucking her legs up onto the couch. “I'm exhausted.”

He yawns, as if realizing the same himself, “I'm with you on that.”

“Will they miss us if we just stay here?” she asks, knowing who's left of the party is just around the corner, in the kitchen.

Shaking his head, he answers, “I don't think so. To be honest, I don't care. I missed just us.”

“Good. 'Cause you're not getting rid of me.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, Wise Girl.”

He stares up at the ceiling, studying the cracks in the paint; the lines running through it like brushstrokes. It captivates his attention, lost to the rest of the world, dreaming up thoughts of the future in his mind. “Is it weird that I don't feel any different?” Percy asks, breaking the silence.

“Different how?” she wonders, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Like, graduating is supposed to be this big thing; the world finally trusts you to go out on your own and not fuck it up.” As he says it, he realizes why — they've already gone through it. “And you still fuck it up anyways.”

Annabeth presses a kiss to his cheek with a smile. “You know it all works out in the end.”

“I guess so.”

“It's proof enough that we're here,” she says, leaning further into his embrace. “'Cause you fucked up a lot,” she chuckles, “and so did I.”

“Point taken.” Percy's hand smooths over her back, and he wonders how exactly he got so lucky. To still be here, alive, with _her_. It's the one thing he's never taking for granted.

“You're not _just_ lucky,” she says, and he realizes he'd said it out loud. And she's right — it's foolish to attribute it to luck alone when they fought so hard. “You're strong. That's what I love about you.”

“I love you too,” he answers, knowing it's the one thing he knows in this world to be 100% true.

Annabeth rests against his chest. “Let's just forget about everything else for a while. I just want it to be us.” No scary, big, world to hold them back; a pocket of safety and familiarity — security — among newfound freedom.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29\. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Annabeth spends the rest of the day holding on to him; like he’s something so fragile that could shatter into oblivion if she makes one wrong move. She bounces her leg nervously, leaning her head into Percy’s shoulder and inevitable losing herself in a spiral of thoughts. It’s no different now that he’s here — instead of worrying he’s dead, or worse, her head’s dreaming up illogical reasons for him to leave. She squeaks in surprise as he lifts her up, swinging her around onto his lap. It shakes her out of her thoughts, and she laughs as he sets her down. “What’s that for?”

His smile relaxes, and he reaches up to push her hair behind her ear, leaving a moment of silence before he speaks, soft; “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that,” she responds, equally quiet.

“I found my way back and I’d do it a million times over, Annabeth.”

She shakes her head with a solemn smile, “I know.”

And Percy knows she does. But it’s a worry ingrained deep in her subconscious that she can’t contain. He knows what that’s like; all logic be damned— “All I knew was I had to find you.”

“What do you mean?” Annabeth asks.

“The only thing I remembered when I first woke up was _you_ ,” Percy admits, blushing.

Annabeth doesn’t have a response. She knows he’s embarrassed, but it’s almost too intimate to even think about; knowing nothing except _her_. She changes the subject instead: “I never would’ve stopped looking.”

“I know, Wise Girl. You don’t give up anything.”

She wraps her legs around his waist, smiling. “No.” _Not you._

His thumb traces circles on her shoulder, trailing down her arm to grab her hand. “I missed this.”

She pulls him in without warning for a quick, messy kiss. Despite his reflexes, Percy barely has time to process a response beyond his brain turning into mush, only kissing her back on pure instinct. Annabeth melts into his arms, clinging to him as tight as she can, resting on his shoulder. “There were so many times I wished I could just kiss you like that; fall asleep in your arms.”

It’s rare for her to show this level of affection. She’d fallen asleep against his shoulder before, always quickly laughing it off with a snide remark. But eight months is a long time. He really wonders how she must’ve felt, seeing how distraught he was, even barely knowing her name. “You can now,” he offers.

“Okay,” she says, unmoving. “I love you.”

“I—” Percy stammers. He absolutely does, that’s no question. He just didn’t expect her to say it, at least not yet. “I love you too.”

Annabeth chuckles. “You better.”


End file.
